James Grady
Location: Tunnels (Cairo, Egypt: October 6th, 1924)
Skills: Peccary Form
Oh, the wonder of piggy senses. Sometimes, it felt like being psychic. Oh sure, James figured that having a porcine sense of smell would be more of a liability than an asset in a subway. Or anywhere near a public restroom. Or near a water treatment plant. Okay, so that wasn't the point. This wasn't the first time that he'd turned into a boar, obviously, but it was the first time that he'd taken on a rider. The combination worked for him, too. Andromeda wasn't so tall as to shift his center of gravity much, and if she leaned forward while she held on, speed could be comfortably reached. James couldn't imagine doing this with someone as large as Gilbert, for instance. He'd be one low bridge away from testing his claims of immortality. It'd be funny, though.
As they made their way down through the corridors, James gave the occasional chuff or snort, though remained silent for long stretches at a time except for the small, regular clacking sounds of his hooves upon the stone beneath them. On the occasions when he did make an audible noise, it was usually preceded with a pause and sniff at the air, a perk of his ears, or a sweeping motion of his snout upon the ground as if detecting something and trying to suss out what it might be. It was probably a good thing, considering the nature of the haze around them and his new, lower eye level thanks to his scrofal physiology.
It was the smell of sulphur that caught his attention first. It was slight, possibly something from the fire, but as they continued it got stronger. By the time they had gotten to where both Emendators agreed was the place, it was almost overwhelming to his porcine senses. It was probably for the best that The Watch insisted that he shift back to his charming and overly handsome (just ask him) human form, considering.
James gave a little shimmy, as he said that he would, before reverting from Wild Boar to Domestic Blackneck. His first act as a human was to give a light cough and say,
"Mmm, now Miss Andy? Next time you get to ridin' me, grip with them knees more, k? Way you was grindin' them heels bout had me..." He stopped, taking a glance around with the sudden understanding of one possible translation of his words, be it without context.
"Oh, fuck all-a y'all," he whispered, loud enough to be heard by everyone. He wanted to say more, maybe even some form of apology to Andromeda, but his attention was suddenly snapped away by the wafting of voices on the air. He recognized three of them.
He cracked a smile upon hearing Nancy giving someone the business. Another Emendator in their midst would be
awesome.
He looked highly confused but suddenly mirthful at the gravelly and unmistakable voice of a serious badass he knew in life. If he was correct, he had a LOT more questions than answers.
And he was purely overjoyed to hear the sound of his good friend and fellow troublemaker, thought lost to them, bitching about SCHRODY. Though there was a smaller puzzle there. He had yet to get a straight answer about that cat. Was he with them? But to hell with the cat - Alicia hadn't been taken up, or whatever the hell they called it. And she was with her father, possibly? Stranger things had happened. Twelve seconds ago he was a boar, for instance.
"Well, hot damn..." he marveled, anxious to see what was going to happen next. One thing he needed to address first, though. Okay, second. The hog riding advice already came first. But second!
"Hey um... Anybody else smell sulphur? Like, lots of it, burnin'? Or it that a oinky thang?"
Gilbert Summers
Location: Tunnels (Cairo, Egypt: October 6th, 1924)
Skills: History, Observation
Gilbert generally accepted that this was, indeed, the way the needed to go. He also agreed with his colleague and fellow Emendator that this was also, indeed, where they had to be when he made mention of it. And sure enough, the tunnels all lined up with this fact, from the tiny indicators intrinsic to the tunnels themselves to his own memory of them, compared to his memory of the city of Cairo, above. Emendator GPS, if you will, functioning properly from knowledge of where they started, how long they had traveled, and cues from the tunnels themselves. There was only one problem with the whole situation, but it was massive.
He stopped underneath the entrance, an odd look on his face. Gilbert took in a deep breath, intent on explaining his foreboding feeling when James abruptly turned back into James and addressed Andromeda, and then the rest of the group with an imperative that, if taken followed literally, Gil would be hard pressed to look anyone present in the eye ever again. But he listened. He listened to the voices that manifested suddenly, processing those familiar to him giving a smile at hearing Nancy and Alicia. If all went well, it was possible that they were getting reinforced, though the manner of its arrival had him at a loss. As he had mentioned before, this was new territory for him. It was very rare that he got to say that. Very.
When James mentioned the smell of sulphur, Gilbert immediately stiffened up. He drew his Winchester rifle from his back and looked glanced about his surroundings.
"That might be a bigger problem than what concerns me, Mr. Grady, though I will speak mine anyway: We are not under the Qasr El Nil Armory, nor the barracks at all. We are in the right place. The Barracks are not here." This would ordinarily be the time that he made some sort of comment about the situation, saying that it was very curious or fascinating, filling him with a sense of wonder at the natural and/or supernatural world. Not this time, not in the field with new Paradoxes among them, not with the scent of sulphur in the air, and not with the uncertainty of hearing voices of the unfamiliar mixed with voices of the supposed dead. He cast an eye upward, then turned attention above them all with an almost studious look.
"And did anyone else notice that the ceiling is disappearing?" 
